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"There was... Kryptonite... in there," he
explained, lines of strain showing on his face.

Kryptonite...

That was the meteorite Jason Trask had claimed to have. The
one he'd claimed could kill Superman. The one she'd never
even believed existed.

The one... which was harmless to humans.

And it had hurt Clark.

That meant Clark... was Kryptonian. He had to be!

But what did that mean? He was Superman's brother? Cousin?

Wait a minute...

From the kitchen, tantalizing smells had begun to waft, distracting her. She heard the sudden, irritated sizzle of a pan as some new ingredient was added and heard Clark whistling softly as he --

-- made breakfast.

Pot holders.

Why *were* there no pot holders in Clark Kent's apartment?

Oh, she knew what she'd postulated the previous evening, but really...now that she thought on it hard...had she *ever* seen pot holders? Even tattered ones ready to be thrown out and replaced?

She'd spent a lot of time in Clark's apartment. Not exactly at an intimate level, she hadn't stayed there, her visits had always been casual. She had watched him cook though. Often. But she'd never seen him use pot holders.

Not once.

Not ever.

So, how *did* he get those scrumptious, mouth-watering casseroles from the oven to plate when he made them dinner as they worked together? She began to realize that she was never in the kitchen when he did. More often than not he'd shooed her off by that point, complaining with a smile that she was distracting him. Or claiming cook's secrets and teasing her about trying to steal his Mom's heirloom recipe. Or telling her she looked tired and why didn't she just go relax and he'd call her when it was ready?

What else had he said was missing?

She frowned. The kettle. The kettle had been 'right at the back of the cupboard.'

Because he never used it?

He used it when she was there, she told herself tartly and for an instant was pleased at herself for producing something solid to thoroughly debunk what she was thinking...beginning to think was...trying *not* to think was --

But when he's alone?

Her triumph deflated. Maybe, alone, he didn't bother with kettles. Or gas.

Why would you, when you could use heat vision to heat up your tea?

Heat...heat *vision*?

"Okay, I'll show you." Still cupping her face, he rose several inches into the air, taking Lois with him.

At her shocked expression, he said, "I can't go much higher than this because we're out in the street. It's hard to tell who's watching but I think the coast is clear."

"You're... you're... Superman?"

If Clark shutting the door in her face had surprised her before, then this new bit of knowledge really had a punch to it. Her mild-mannered, gentle partner was claiming to be Metropolis' and the world's resident superhero.

But it was too shocking to believe the first time through. Clark wasn't saying a word. He was simply sitting there looking as if he was about to become fodder for one of his farm animals.

"What is it, Lois? Come and tell me what's bothering you."

He took her free hand and gently pulled her over to the sofa. She sank onto it heavily, glad of its support. Clark took the candle from her and put it on the coffee table.

"You know, Clark...have you ever had the experience of not realising how much you value something until you no longer have it? And it was something I gave up voluntarily, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Clark gripped her hand a little tighter. "Look at me, Lois."

She glanced at him, but her thoughts were elsewhere and her gaze wandered.

"Lois, didn't I tell you that you'd made the right choice?"

There was a pause, and then suddenly Clark's words registered with Lois, tired as she was. She swung her gaze back to his face. "Say that again, Clark," she said sharply.

He continued to look at her intently. "I said, I told you that you'd made the right choice, and..."

"...and I'd never regret it," she finished the sentence with him. She looked at him in horror, conscious of a rising sense of panic inside her. She wasn't with her best friend anymore, she was with a stranger - or rather, not a stranger at all. She felt a little light-headed. "Clark, are you trying to tell me
what I think you're trying to tell me?"

"I'm sorry, Lois. I had to know. I had to hear you say it."

Lois took a deep breath. "Excuse me, Clark. I think I need some fresh air." She went over to the window, threw it open and screamed.

Clark had gotten a haircut last night, too. What was it with men? Did they all time their haircuts? Or maybe they used the same barber.

Lois laughed aloud, earning some strange looks and a “cuckoo” symbol from Cat.

The same barber. That was ridiculous. Although they *had* both gotten exactly the same hairc--

Lois sat up fast. Clark and Superman... they’d both had pretty much the same haircuts yesterday... She shuffled through the papers on her desk, pulling out a picture of Superman from a few days ago.

His hair was slicked back, so it wasn’t as obvious. But it was definitely as long in the back as Clark’s had been. And if Clark had slicked his back, it would have looked exactly the same. And then today, both of them had had haircuts. The slicked-back look made it hard to tell, but she thought they both had about the same length and style of hair now.

And their skin and eye color, along with their hair color, were the same. Except for the glasses and the muscles, they could be the same person. The muscles...

She looked up at Clark speculatively. Was it possible?

“Clark,” Lois said sharply, standing up and walking over to him, “take off your shirt.”

"Smallville, Kansas, May 17, 1966," said Clark quietly.

"Pardon?" Lois didn't even bother looking up at the apparent non sequitur.

"I told you that, if you found the records, and if it became necessary for you to know where and when the ship landed, I would tell you."

That got her attention. Her head jerked up, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. "*What* did you say?"

"I said-"

"No. No, it's all right. I heard you the first time. I'm just... *You're* Superman? You?!"

Clark looked at Lois uncertainly, not sure how to react to her incredulity.

"I'd worked out that he... you... had to have a secret identity. And I even knew that there were some parallels in your backgrounds... But I didn't... It never even crossed my mind..." Lois turned her back against the filing cabinet and slid down against it so that she ended up sitting on the floor, knees to chest. She wiped a hand across her forehead as she said, "Boy! Have I been blind!"

Clark walked over and squatted down next to her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to shock you."

"Clark, you're bleeding."

"Am I?" Stupid, stupid...

"Yes, your shirt is a mess. You'd better sit down while I take a closer look." She slipped an arm around his waist to guide him down to the sofa, but he pulled away again.

"I can clean it up. I-I'm sure it's nothing."

"Clark, what is it? Why won't you let me help you?" Lois just couldn't understand his behaviour at all, and it was beginning to frustrate her. She was also starting to wonder exactly what he was hiding - what could be so bad that he would keep shrinking away from her like this?

Clark stared dumbly at Lois; he didn't know what to tell her. What he did know was that he needed to sit down soon.

"Oh, for heaven's sake! At least sit down before you fall down."

There was no argument for that. Once seated, he couldn't resist relaxing back into the soft cushions and closing his eyes. He felt her start to ease his jacket off again, and somehow it was easier to let her continue than put up any more resistance. <She's going to find out.> I know, but I can't stop her. <She's going to be so mad at you.> I know, but I can't change that. His tie was coming off, and then she was undoing his shirt buttons.

"Lois, I'm sorry."

"I should think so! You were acting like a two year-old."

<That's not what I meant.>

Now his shirt was off, and he felt her go still. "What...?"

He opened his eyes just as hers slid from the bandage to his face.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

"Why have you got Superman's bandage on your shoulder?" Lois studied the face in front of her...she reached up and pulled his glasses off his face. Those eyes...slowly she pushed the hair back from his forehead, while he continued to stare anxiously at her with those wide brown eyes of his...of-

"Superman's. You're Superman." She snatched her hand away from his hair.

He leaned forward and seized her lips with his again in a fierce,
passionate kiss. He wanted, *needed* to make love to her, to give
them both what they so badly wanted. But....

She tore her mouth from his. "Superman... Superman, take me home.
Take *us* home, please!"

He made his decision on the spur of the moment. "Lois, we are home,"
he told her quietly, humbly.

She gazed back at him, eyebrows furrowed, clearly not understanding.

"*My* home," he told her.

She shook her head in confusion. "I don't... oh, do you mean you
*live* here with Clark or something?"

He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her head onto his shoulder
and burying his face in her hair. "No. I live here. Alone."

She didn't reply, and the stillness of her body suggested that she
was still baffled.

"Me. Clark," he murmured at last, and waited for the explosion.

She pulled back from him, staring at his face; her hands pulled at
his hair, ruffling it and dragging strands down over his forehead.
"My God! Do you mean... I was right the first time! When I saw you...
you *were* Clark, but you were just pretending to be Superman? I
don't believe... you *fink!*"

She stopped abruptly, seemingly too shocked to move, but continued to
stare at him. Then she spoke again, muttering agitatedly to herself.
"No. You can't have been Clark - you *flew* me up to that
washing-line. And Clark can't fly...."

"I can," he told her quietly.

The expression of shock seemed to be frozen on her face as she simply
continued to stare at him; he felt his desire subside as it was
obvious that any lovemaking was now definitely not going to happen.
He wondered whether she'd hit him if he tried to put his T-shirt on.

Did he need to explain further? Possibly. "Lois, I am Clark. And I am
Superman. There aren't two of us - there never were."

He watched in horror and disbelief as she began to cry.

Clark took one deep breath. "I'm Superman."

Lois wasn't sure she heard him correctly. Her brain had suddenly ceased to function. Whatever possibilities that had passed through her mind before this moment, whatever she thought Clark might be going to say, what she thought she heard certainly wasn't it.

"What?" There was a quaver in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Lois, I know I should have told you sooner. You have to believe me when I tell you how much I wanted to tell you before this, but I just didn't know when it would be the right time."

"You're Superman?" Lois was still dealing with the original pronouncement.

Clark nodded once and levitated a couple of feet off the seat of the couch. Lois' hands flew to her mouth as tears flooded her eyes. Clark reached for her but she pulled back and scrambled off the couch. Her hands left her mouth to clench hard at her sides, her teeth finding her bottom lip as her tears fell in earnest.

"Lois, I'm sorry. I know you are upset. Please allow me to explain. I know you are probably mad because I didn't tell you sooner. You probably don't think I trust you, but believe me I do. It just has been so hard recently with all the confusion in our relationship and everything. If you and I could just... what?"

Lois was just holding up her hand and shaking her head in denial. "You don't understand. This is the worst thing you could have told me."

She felt warm now, so she relaxed into a long, drowsy stretch as she turned over to settle down for what remained of the night. She listened for a moment to Clark's deep breathing, then glanced his way. He had turned onto his back, and his face was towards her. He has such a nice face, she thought. "The best looking guy at the 'Daily Planet,' " is the way she'd once overheard one female staffer describe him, while bemoaning the fact that he only seemed to have eyes for his partner. Lois had been secretly tickled by that observation at the time. It was making her chuckle now and she quickly stifled the noise. She didn't want to wake Clark -- he looked so peaceful and, in this light she could hardly see the marks from the fight ... Wait a minute, she really couldn't see them ... but she'd been able to before they had fallen asleep, what ... ? Maybe the light was different? But, no ... the only available light was that neon sign hanging in the alley outside. She looked more closely at him, edging nearer to him and propping herself up on her elbow. She studied his face intently. She could barely make out the bruises, now. The scrapes that had looked so raw before, now had scabs on them that looked two days old. His left cheek wasn't swollen at all. How could he heal so quickly? What in the world ... ?

Suddenly her whole body stiffened. She could feel her heart begin to thump uncomfortably. She reached a trembling hand out, smoothed his hair back off his forehead, and then jerked her hand back. It couldn't be! She looked again -- it *was* true!! Clark was Superman! Clark was *Superman?*

For a moment her mind was blank, she felt numb. This wasn't happening. No. Wait a minute here. Let's think about this. Maybe there is another explanation. She looked at him again, very carefully and slowly, allowing herself to really look -- the eyebrows, the way his hair grew at his temples, his chin, his lips were all just like ... ! His right hand was resting on his stomach. All those muscles in his arm -- they're not from playing football or working out, but because he's ... And his hands ... the long slender fingers -- Superman's hands! She
looked for the marks on his wrists. They had faded, too! He ... he... it was true, then -- Clark was Superman, or was it ... Superman is Clark? Either way he hadn't told her, she wailed to herself. Why hadn't he told her?

She felt overwhelmed. I have to get out of here, she thought. She got out of bed and almost ran to the front door. She was at the steps before she remembered that she didn't have
any street clothes, or her purse. Where was she going to go at this hour with no money, no I.D. -- nothing. She stood there in the dark and the cold trying to decide what to do before the cold and common sense won, and she headed back to bed and warmth. It would be morning soon anyway. She'd just thank Clark politely for his hospitality and leave. No need to tell him that she knew his little secret; after all, she thought with a pathetic sniff, if he didn't trust her enough to tell her all about himself, then she didn't have to tell him what she'd found out. He wouldn't understand why she was doing what she was doing -- why she was leaving so abruptly. He'd be hurt. With a little sob she thought, but I don't want to hurt Clark!

She felt an odd tingle run up and down her spine and wondered if her reporter's sense had misfired. She regarded him more carefully and decided that it definitely had not. She was experiencing major deja vu. The image of Clark lying on the ground the night before came back to her and she realized why the sight of him without his glasses and with his hair matted down had struck her. She stared at him, hard.

Same chin.

Same nose.

Same ears.

Same mouth.

Same warm, softly pleading, deceptive eyes.

He began to speak but she didn't hear a word he said. She couldn't do anything except stare at his practiced expression. She could see nothing but deceit in his face. Hear nothing but lies in his low, sonorous voice. She wanted to shut him up, tell him that she knew and demand a reason for his lies, but she held her tongue.

"...I don't know what to say. What you did for me, it was incredible. You saved my life. I don't know how I'm supposed to thank you for that."

"Forget it." She casually dismissed his thanks with a shrug. She knew better than to fall for that polished look of earnestness. She had to give him credit, though, he was a damn good liar. He even pretended to be a lousy liar, probably to
deflect suspicion she figured.

What? The big blue bird! He's picking me up! No! No ground! I want down!

"OK, Elroy, I've got you. You're not going to fall, see?"

Right. Sure. The floor is a long, long way down. And.. ohh, nice scratching. Very nice. Hey! I'm back in the living room! I *was* right! You *are* the big blue bird.

"It's OK, Lois. I got him!"

Mom! Did you see that! The big blue bird saved me! Awww mom, not so tight please. I can't breathe! Hey! That's my food dish!
Dinner!

"What the ..."

Lois stood dumbfounded as a panel in the back of the closet slid open to
reveal a hidden compartment. The shirts fell from suddenly nerveless
fingers as her eyes took in the contents of the secret compartment. She
reached over and took one off its hanger. There was no doubt about it,
this was one of Superman's suits. She'd felt the cheap costume imitations
before as had she felt the real thing on many occasions. This was
definitely one of the real things. She hadn't really thought about it
before, but it made sense that Superman would have more than one suit, but
what were they doing in Clark's apartment?

She backed out of the closet and was still holding onto the suit when she
tripped over a fold in the carpet and found herself sitting on the floor.
It was a testament to how shocked Lois was that the fall didn't even rate a
response from her. She just stared at the super suit which she held in her
hands.

It took a few moments for her brain to engage and finally try to piece
together the momentous piece of information she had just uncovered. As she
saw it there were only two options, the first being that Clark was holding
Superman's suits for him. Maybe he laundered them or something. That was
the most logical answer and if Clark were standing here next to her to tell
her that, she'd most likely believe it. But Clark wasn't here, he was
missing, and Lois had heard a strange message from his mother on the
answering machine about helping out during disasters. Could it be true?
Could her farm boy partner really be Superman?

Her eyes darted after Clark and watched as he entered the abandoned alley.
Then, without warning, she heard a sonic boom.

`Only a low flying jet and a local superhero could achieve such velocity.
And, there certainly aren't any airstrips located in downtown Metropolis.
Clark heard my whispered confession from across the street. His reason for
leaving abruptly meant the difference between life and death.' The puzzle
pieces of Clark Kent's life fell right into place. `Clark Kent is Superman.
Superman is Clark Kent.'

"Lois, I want to show you something," he
said solemnly. Then, quickly and decisively, before he could
change his mind, he reached for his shirtfront and started
fumbling with his buttons.

Lois watched in confusion as he started unbuttoning his shirt
near his chest and continued to work downward. When he'd
managed to undo three or four buttons, he gently pulled apart
the fabric of his shirt to reveal what lay beneath it. When he
paused expectantly, she cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to
figure out what it was he was trying to tell her. But as she
did, she caught sight of a familiar flash of blue.

'What in the world...?' she thought, startled. Whatever it was
he was wearing beneath his shirt, it looked to be made of
shiny, blue spandex. But who wore shiny blue spandex? The only
person she'd ever seen wear such a material was....

Her eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. There had to be some
other explanation. Maybe the fabric wasn't really spandex.
Maybe it was some kind of shiny cotton undershirt he'd chosen
to wear that day, which was a weird enough thought in itself.
But at any rate, there was only one way to find out.

Tentatively, almost afraid to know the truth, she reached out
and ran her fingertips across the smooth fabric. When she did,
tears immediately sprung into her eyes.

Spandex. It was definitely spandex.

He held her gaze and spoke with careful emphasis to stem her rising hysteria. "Clark wasn't shot tonight."

She leapt to her feet and planted her fists on her hips. "Don't try to mess with my mind, buster!" she growled, her eyes flashing. "I saw it myself, remember?"

He shook his head. "You saw Barrow shoot at him. You didn't see the bullets hitting him. You didn't see any blood."

Her mouth worked silently, her eyes clinging desperately to his.

"Clark caught the bullets," he said deliberately. There. It was done. This was where she flew into a fit of rage about his deception, both tonight and for more than a year before that, and then ordered him out of her apartment for good.

She was still looking stunned. "But... but you're the only person who can do that," she quavered uncomprehendingly.

He inclined his head slightly. "That's true," he said.

Her eyes went blank as realisation dawned; then she was searching his face for confirmation. "Clark?" she said disbelievingly.

"Sometimes I hate Superman, you know. I hate the whole idea of him! If it hadn't been for him, it wouldn't have taken me so long to become Lois's friend. If it hadn't been for him, she might have given me a chance! We might be together, you know, dating, or maybe even married."

Married? Married!

"I love her so much, Mom, and it's killing me that I can't be with her the way I want to be."

Tears rolled down Lois's cheeks as she listened to Clark share his feelings with his mother. His voice was so anguished, naked and vulnerable, and his feelings so passionate and freely expressed. She was in shock. It tore at her heart to know that she had hurt him so badly. She ached knowing that her best friend was in such pain.

"I don't know what to do now, Mom. I've made Lois look like a fool and when she finds out, she'll never forgive me. She'll never believe that I screwed up this badly because I love her, and I'm jealous of myself."

Huh? Lois rewound the tape a bit to listen to this part of the conversation again. What did he mean, jealous of himself? And how had he made her look like a fool?

"I don't know, Mom. You don't know Lois like I do. I don't know how in the world I could ever tell her now. I should never have done it. She was just supposed to lose interest in Superman, but I didn't mean to make an idiot out of her. Oh, God, I wish I'd never invented Superman!"

What? He wished he'd never what?? He didn't invent Superman. He couldn't invent Superman. Superman was a person. Superman was... Superman was... a disguise. Superman was a man with insecurities. Superman was ... Clark Kent.

"I understand," Clark was saying. "But Kryptonite is the only way I know
of to be able to weaken my skin long enough for you to be able to stick a
needle in me to draw some blood. And if we don't have a blood sample of my
Kryptonian DNA, Lois may never stand a chance at getting better."

Jimmy's jaw dropped in shocked silence. Kryptonian DNA? Kryptonite
exposure the only way to weaken his skin? What was Clark talking about?
All of a sudden, Jimmy felt the world spinning out of control around him.
**Wait a minute!** he thought, his mind a jumbled mess. **Clark Kentis....?**
A second later, Jimmy shook his head, as if to shake the ridiculously
insane idea from his mind. **No, that can't be,** he deducted. He'd
known Clark for a long time, and he'd seen Superman and Clark together lots
of times. How about that time just last week when Superman had... no, wait
a minute. Clark had left an instant before Superman had showed up, saying
he felt the sudden urge for some frozen yogurt or something like that. And
he hadn't returned until after Superman had flown off.
The more that Jimmy thought about it, the more he started to realize that
Clark *always* mysteriously disappeared just seconds before Superman showed
up. And now that he was trying to remember a single time when he had seen
the two men together at the same time, he couldn't. And then it hit him
like a brick wall.

Clark Kent was Superman.

What had happened? Lois strained her ears to hear. Something clinked,
and Jonathan's voice said, "What do you mean, you 'think' you feel
better? Don't you know"

"He's never been sick before, Jonathan," Martha said. "It's a new
experience!"

Lois frowned, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. Never been
sick? Everybody got sick at some time or other!

More sounds, then Clark's voice again: "I've lifted a rocket into orbit
before. Now I can't even lift this."

What was she hearing? Was Clark crazy? No one could lift a rocket into
orbit except Superman! The thought hit her with such a shock that she
missed the next part of the conversation.

"...Bounce right back," Martha was saying.

"I don't understand," Jonathan Kent's voice said. "How can a rock that
probably came from the same planet as Clark make him sick?"

*What*? Lois couldn't believe what she was hearing. Clark was from
another planet, or his parents believed he was. That could only mean...

And then he'd started talking about being different. What
on Earth was that supposed to mean? Everyone felt different
growing up. Just because he was strong and fast and didn't
get sick as often as other kids... He should feel grateful.
Instead, he was trying to convince her that these
differences were proof of his claim that he was a virgin.
Right!

"Just get to the point, Clark," she had finally
interrupted. She wished he would just tell her where he was
tonight instead of going on about how alone he'd felt
growing up. It didn't justify his having an affair.

"Lois, I'm Superman," Clark responded.

Lois almost burst out laughing. He had just taken lying to
an all new level. Everyone knew that when you lied, you
should at least attempt to make the lie believable -
something that couldn't be disproved - but Clark... It
suddenly occurred to Lois that she had never seen Clark
without his glasses before - not even when they'd made love
earlier. When she'd tried to remove them, he'd stopped her
- making a comment about wanting to be able to see her. But
in spite of never having seen him without his glasses, he
looked... familiar somehow. In fact, he looked a lot
like... She gasped.

"You want to know where I was tonight," Clark continued
rising to his feet and making his way to the television. He
turned it on and switched the channel to LNN.

Clark was safe with her. And she was safe with him. And the world could go hang and would have to look after itself.

He had suffered enough. She was suddenly taken by wondering what he had endured in those hours when he had been...what? Dead? Frozen somewhere in between death and living? Could he remember where he had been? How it had felt?

The intriguing concept occupied her for a few moments, then she decided probably not. Such an experience would be etched on his face, she thought, as her eyes studied every inch and plane of the features in question intently. And he looked so at peace. He looked so...

She stopped in her tracks.

He looked so...

Familiar.

Not...not *Clark* familiar. Familiar in ways she had never expected to....

She found that she was trembling.

The light in the room had brightened as she'd been lost in her thoughts and she could see his features more clearly now. She had smoothed his hair back from his forehead as she'd sought to relax him back into peaceful sleep, undisturbed by whatever dreams had made him restless. Sometime during the night he had apparently taken off his glasses....

He looked...

No...

No, that was...that was impossible.

That couldn't be.

Lois eased herself clear of the arms enfolding her, as carefully as though it were a sleeping tiger she sought to escape and not a man -

/Man?/

The shaky thought interrupted as she slipped over the side of the bed and rose to her feet. She backed up slowly. What...who...was it who lay there on her bed? Man? Or...

...Superman...

Lois caught up with her aunt, realizing that Allie must have done this before. The road was dangerous here, particularly in this type of freezing rain. After they had done what they could to help the shock victims, Lois turned to look for Clark whom she saw at the far end of the trail of mangled vehicles. He had been hard to spot in his dark clothes in the black night. She walked quickly over the loose gravel of the highway shoulder to reach him.

Just as she was about to call out to him, she noticed a jeep suddenly appear around the blind curve in the road, speeding toward the pileup, no possibility of not crashing into it. And then, in the dim light of the crescent moon, she saw something incredible. In a blur, Clark moved in front of the speeding jeep as if he intended to stop it. Lois felt a scream begin to rise in the back of her throat and then it was over. Clark was standing in front of the jeep, his hand on the hood. There had been no collision. How could that be? She watched as Clark, in a fast moving blur, disappeared back into the darkness.

Lois ran toward the jeep just as Matt Thomson got out. "Are you all right?"

He looked groggy and shook his head, as if to clear it. "Yeah. Did you see what happened? I should be dead. It was all so quick. I was half asleep and I skidded on the pavement coming around the bend. The next thing I know I'm racing toward this pileup and I can't brake the car fast enough. I thought I saw a man but that can't be possible." He shook his head again and repeated his question, "Did you see what happened?"

"I'm not sure; it all happened so fast." But she was sure; she was very sure about what she had seen. She put it temporarily to the back of her mind. "You must be exhausted," she said. "You can't get back into the car in this state. Come with me. There's tea over at the emergency van."

[...]

Clark came up toward them as she left. Lois noticed the way the rain had slicked his dark hair so that it clung damply to his skull and wondered why she had never noticed his resemblance to Superman before. <It had to be the glasses> she thought in disgust. <and they were *new* ones and I still didn't notice. . . > She wanted to yell at him, to run away from him, to turn herself in for stupidity. She did none of these things; instead she controlled her feelings and said hi.

They walked with Matt back toward his jeep. Clark offered to drive him home and Matt, still shaken from his experience, accepted. Lois agreed to follow them in Allie's car. <Why, Clark? You could just fly back,> she thought angrily.

"I wouldn't do it like that," Lois said.

Without thinking, Clark turned around, startled to see someone behind him. Lois stared at him right in the eyes, took his glasses away, and had them cleaned in less then thirty seconds.

"Here you go. I don't see why you didn't let me do that earlier; that would have been easier for you," she said and Clark could see she was about to laugh. "And, by the way, Clark, you're more handsome without your glasses. Ever thought of wearing contact lenses?"

Lois didn't wait for an answer and simply turned and left, leaving a bemused Clark behind her. She hadn't seen anything. She'd just looked at him, right in the eyes, and she didn't even realize who he was! That was amazing, really.

Clark was starting to get angry with himself. He had been so stupid! The whole day, he had endured being half blinded by that blot on his glasses, just because he thought Lois would recognize him at the first glimpse she had of him without his glasses. He'd felt so embarrassed just now. He was wondering how he could have been such an idiot. The only thing that cheered him up was that at least his glasses were clean. What a fool he was.

At the other end of the room, Lois returned to her desk with a big grin on her face. This had been a perfect day for her. Seeing Clark fighting all day against his glasses, trying to find a place where he could be alone to take them off. And she had made sure he would never succeed. Oh yeah, she was having far too much fun with this. If only Clark knew. If only he knew that she had found out about his secret identity almost one week ago...

And even though it had been almost a year, she'd never forgotten the shock of seeing Superman writhing on the floor, grimacing in
pain...much like Clark was now.

Something clicked in Lois' head, and her mouth opened in shocked silence. It couldn't be! Kryptonite was supposed to be harmless to
humans. If this was the reason Clark was suddenly so sick, that could only mean....

Her face went white. Turning to look once again at Clark's grimacing form, it was like watching the events in Lex Luthor's penthouse all
over again. Except this time it was Clark writhing on the ground.

Her mind started to whirl frantically, searching for a solution to the questions suddenly forming in her mind. Could it be? Clark?
And Superman? Were they...could they be...?

As her foggy, panicked mind struggled to reason, Clark lifted his head off the floor just enough to see what she was doing. The
instant he saw the glowing, green rock in her hand, it all made sense. No wonder he hadn't been getting any better!

"Your glasses are all wet."

Clark laughed. "I tell you you're beautiful and all you can think of to say is that my glasses are wet?"

"I think they're clouding your vision."

"I've never seen anything more clearly in my life. And..."

Thunder blotted out whatever else he had to say.

Lois clapped her hands over her ears, startled by the loud noise. She heard Clark laugh, and felt rather than saw him wrap his jacket back around her and grab one of her hands. She followed him as they ran towards a nearby building, laughing with him and at his tie flapping in the breeze of his own creation.

When they made it to cover, they stood there, holding hands and laughing.

"See," Clark managed to get out. "Even storms are more fun with you."

Lois laughed even harder until she saw something that made her stop. She heard her own sharp intake of breath, not believing what she was seeing.

There under Clark's white shirt, where his tie would have been had it not been wrapped around his neck, now soaking wet and clinging to his body, was the Superman emblem.

She reached out, her eyes full of fear and surprise. She started to unbutton his shirt, the next to top button, but was stopped by a large hand on hers.

Another hand lifted her chin. When she met Clark's eyes, she saw her own emotions mirrored there.

"Lois, we need to talk."

A noise from somewhere behind her caught her attention; she dropped the book and whirled around, searching for its source. Behind her, there was only the kitchen, though, and the arch leading into Clark's bedroom; there was no way that he could have got in there without her seeing him. Puzzled, she got to her feet.

At the same time, a figure emerged from the bedroom. Lois stopped and stared in shock...

In front of her, apparently not having noticed her, was Superman! He'd stripped off the top part of his costume, causing her stomach to do flip-flops, and he carried the blue fabric - and some red fabric, which had to be his cape - in one hand. With the other hand, he was rumpling his hair, which was another surprise for Lois; she'd never seen Superman with his hair any other way apart from slicked back.

What was Superman doing at Clark's apartment? And, what was more, why was he walking around as if he was very much at home there? Coming out of Clark's *bedroom*?

An involuntary gasp escaped her, and Superman swung around, seeing her for the first time. And when she saw his face in full rather than in profile, she realised that, with his hair ruffled, he looked very familiar. Too familiar, especially with the shocked expression he now wore. An expression very similar to the one he'd worn only a little under an hour ago... when he'd broken their kiss in her apartment.

"*Clark*?" Lois exclaimed in appalled disbelief.

"Maybe I should go with you to make sure you get home all right," Clark suggested, his usual concern for her resurfacing.

"Oh, don't worry Clark. I'll be fine." She paused long enough to smile at him. "But it looks like you could use somebody to look after you."

Clark looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it appears your mom never taught you how to correctly dress yourself." It was all Lois could do to keep from laughing out loud as Clark quickly looked down at his clothing with a very confused expression on his face, then back up at her.

Oh, this is *too* much fun, she thought to herself as she studied the baffled look on his face. Finally she decided to let him off the hook. She gave his chest a couple of quick pats and grinned like the cat that has just caught the mouse.

"Your shirt's on backwards," she told him, pausing for emphasis. "Superman."

"You are Clark Kent; they call you Superman." Lois almost screamed it as the sounds of machinegun fire drowned out the sound of everything else. Two of the tires burst, and the truck began to careen out of control..

[...]'s head exploded. The pain grew unbearable; he could see the roadblock approaching; they were going over eighty miles an hour and there wasn't any way to stop. The men directly in front of them were scattering, even as the men to the sides began to open fire.

He wished desperately that there was some way to escape. The truck spun, and in a moment, all he could see through the front window was the open sky.

He braced for impact, even as his mind was being overwhelmed with images of a happy childhood, of life with parents who loved him. They'd taught him right from wrong, and he'd loved them with every fiber of his being.

He tensed, and it took him a moment to realize that they hadn't crashed. He looked out the side window and gawked. They were flying; the world was rapidly moving by below them, and they were leaving the enemy behind.

It took him a moment to realize that he was in control. His mind resisted the concept for a moment; he was a human being, not some sort of alien, someone destined to always stand outside. As the memories continued to flood through his mind, he felt a sort of calm resignation settle over him. He was what he was, no matter how much he wished things could be different.

He felt an odd calm. As he brought the truck down to a gentle landing, he looked behind them, seeing through the burning back end of the truck and back out to the horizon.

"They're chasing us already." His voice was flat. "I have to stop them."

Lois had a small trickle of blood on the side of her face; it looked as though she'd hit her head at some point. She stared at him dazed.

"You have to stop them," she said. "We both have to stop them."

He nodded, then turned as though to leave the vehicle. She grabbed his arm, and kissed him hard. Even that barely penetrated the protective calm that had descended upon him.

"We have to let Lex kill Clark. I don't see any other way," said Lois without preamble as Superman set her down on a mountainside high above Metropolis.

Superman was at a loss. He didn't have enough information and what little he did have had him frightened for Lois's safety, not his own. He thought back to this afternoon, the last time that he had felt even remotely in control - even then the world had been out of kilter.

He had gone to see Lois at her request at LNN and been very surprised at the job offer she had made him. It had given him hope that she really had missed him - even if it was only as her partner. The crumbs I live on, he'd thought in wry acknowledgement of his vulnerability where Lois was concerned.

Until that moment, he hadn't been sure that he was going to tell her he loved her. Once he'd seen her, he'd known. He was lost without her and felt a sense of desperation, as if this were his last chance.

Lois's reaction had surprised him; her eyes filled with tears as she said, "I do love you, but as a friend." His heart sank and it was with great surprise that he had felt Lois engulf him in a hug.

Hiding her face so she wouldn't be seen speaking, she said in a voice she hoped was low enough that it would not be overheard by those she knew were listening, "We're being watched, and if you're not careful, you'll get us both killed. Play along and, as Superman, come to my place as soon as you can."

He sighed again. "Aren't you going to tell me what you're thinking?"

"What I'm thinking?" she asked, the calm in her voice frightening Clark. "What I'm thinking?" She practically bit off the last words. She spun around, her back to Clark, and stuffed her fists into her pockets.

"Lois?"

"What am I thinking, Clark? I'm thinking...how could you? How could you let me think you were dead?"

"Lois, I had no choice. I was dead...Clark was dead. If I didn't have any way to come back to Metropolis as myself, you might as well have believed I was dead. The truth would be crueler."

"The truth would be the truth, Clark! I'd want to know! And don't you think I'd rather know that you were alive, even if you could never come back and be my partner again, than think that you were floating in Hobb's Bay with bullets in your chest because of me?"

"Because of you?" He stared at her in surprise. "How could you think it was your fault?"

She turned back around slowly, and Clark's chest
constricted when he saw the tears in her eyes. "Of course it was my fault! I was the one who dragged you to that club. I got you killed...or would have, if you'd actually stayed dead."

Clark reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm. "Lois..."

"No, Clark, let me say this," she said, brushing his hand away.

"Okay," he said softly.

"Clark, when I thought you were dead, I thought about how much I missed you, how much I was going to miss you for the rest of my life... well, I started to think, maybe there's more to our relationship than just friendship."

Clark held his breath, his heart starting to beat louder with anticipation.

"But now, Clark, I find you've been holding back on me. All this time, and you were su-Sup-Super-"

"Superman," he said helpfully.

"Yes! All this time, you were Superman, and you didn't whisper anything to me while I was bending over you, didn't come to tell me the truth afterwards. Oh, no, your precious secret was much more important to you than I am. And that makes me feel like I don't know you."

"There's no way out!" Lois yelled. "We're trapped!"

"We'll find a way out!" Clark promised, dragging her onwards. There was no way that he'd allow Lois to get killed...

"Clark, there's a cliff up ahead..." she exclaimed suddenly, alarm in her voice.

She was right; he'd brought her some way to the side of the road, and just up ahead, the mountain-side sheered off completely. There were signs that he could see of erosion, where the cliff-edge had given way on previous occasions. For all Lois knew, they were doomed; there was no way ahead, and behind them, gaining on them every second, was the gunman.

Clark didn't even stop to consider his options; there was no other option. He glanced quickly behind and then ahead, then hurriedly said, "Trust me, Lois."

"Huh?"

As one more shot zinged its way past them, missing him by inches, he grabbed Lois around the waist and ran forward... straight off the edge of the cliff.


********

The gangsters were suddenly gone, and around her, Lois was barely aware of confused motion as the patrons of the illegal gambling parlor attempted to make their escape out the side and rear exits.

She didn't move. It was as if the life had been sucked from her when her partner had been shot. Nothing mattered, anymore. Besides, there might be the slightest chance that Clark could still be alive. She couldn't see him breathing, but in spite of the holes in the front of his shirt, she didn't see any blood. She had to get help! The thought occurred to her suddenly. If there was the slightest chance that she could still save him --

The sirens drew up outside and abruptly cut off. And that was when it happened. Clark's eyes popped open. For an instant, they stared at each other.

"Clark?" Lois whispered. "Oh, Clark! Don't move. Help will be here in a minute."

He sat up. "I don't have time to explain," he said, quickly. "Come on."

Incredibly, he was on his feet, tugging her with him. Lois felt as if she were moving in a fog. Her mind felt numb from too many shocks. From the front of the club, she heard the thump as someone slammed a shoulder against the doors. Clark lowered his glasses and glanced quickly around.

"We're surrounded." She barely heard his voice. Then, she felt herself swept up in a pair of powerful arms and they were rising toward the ceiling. Below them, the front door splintered and burst open, but Clark had thrust open the skylight and they were soaring up into the night sky.

Slowly, very slowly, he felt her pull his glasses down his nose, as if afraid of what she'd find beneath. And maybe she *was* afraid. Maybe she would be afraid of him once she knew, maybe she wouldn't want to approach him ever again. Maybe she was mooning after Superman because he was unreachable, and once he was there, in front of her, stripped bare of any mystery, she'd shy away from him. He shivered at the thought, but forced himself to remain calm as Lois finished taking off his glasses.

A small gust of air reached him, tingling his eyes and forcing him to blink a few times, noticing with growing worry that Lois was standing in front of him, staring at him impassively, her face a mask.

"Oh, my..." she finally breathed out. "You... look... like... him..." she repeated, pausing between each word as if to take in their full significance. Her free hand reached for his face again and this time there was no hesitation as she smoothed his hair back. "Oh, my God! Oh, my..." She retreated abruptly, leaving him disoriented and dizzy from her touch, unaware of the pain she was causing him with her reaction.

Fear.

This was what he'd dreaded the most, and this was what was now lying in her eyes. She walked back without turning around, keeping her eyes fixed on his face, until her back fetched up hard against the far wall of the apartment. Her gaze kept travelling from the glasses she was still clutching, to him, who hadn't made a move since she'd discovered the truth, not even allowing himself to breathe for fear of making her scream.

She brought a trembling hand to her face, shaking her head as if to deny the truth offering itself to her, yet unable to doubt any longer. "Oh, my God, you *are* him," she hissed out, voicing the evidence.

"I don't know, Lois. You'll have to be the judge of that. But, remember, whatever happens, I do love you. I trust you. And I'll abide by whatever decision you make afterwards. If you want me out of your life, I'll leave. If you want to..." He shook his head, refusing to finish the thought.

"Clark..."

He swallowed. Then he said, "Perhaps the easiest way is just for me to show you."

He took her right hand, and his touch sent a jolt of...something...through her body. He guided it towards the buttoned seam of his shirt. Then he eased her fingers between the buttons, allowing her to feel beneath.

Lois's eyes widened as her fingers touched skin-tight fabric instead of flesh. She raised her left hand towards the buttons, undid one, and peeked through the resultant gap.

The primary colours of the suit were muted by the shade cast by his street clothes, but she nonetheless could easily make out the blue of its body and the red and yellow of the lower angled corner of the famous S shield.

Was this his idea of a practical joke? She opened her mouth to ask, but then shut it again as she answered her own question. Of course it was no joke; Clark hadn't known that she was coming over. He couldn't have known to wear the suit under his clothes, and it wasn't something one would do on the off-chance. Still, she found herself doubting the evidence of her senses.

She lifted her head to look at his face. She was stunned to see trepidation there as he waited for her to do something, anything, and it dispelled the last of her doubts. Nobody could fake that much fear. "You," she said, "you're Superman." It was a statement, not a question.

"I warned you, Lois. I came here to tell you that the secret identity
wouldn't work. A secret identity to a secret identity just isn't going to
work. I tried to tell you, but you were so bent on getting me to try on
these crazy costumes that I couldn't get a word in edge-wise." Although
the look on his face was serious, his love for her shown through.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was wearing nothing but a towel.

Lois started. His hair was falling over his face and he looked a lot like
Clark. She'd always known that they resembled each other slightly, but
this was too much. And she HAD seen Clark in a towel before and the view
was much the same.

She shook her head waiting for Superman to notice her, but he didn't. She
saw him spin and when he finished spinning, he was standing there in a pair
of boxers with his hair dry and glasses in his hand. He looked at the
glasses as though trying to decide what to do. He finally set them on the
nightstand and crawled into Clark's bed.

Lois was having difficulty breathing. Once he'd stopped
that spinning thing, he had looked JUST like Clark without the glasses. Not
that she'd ever seen Clark without his glasses.

It was just too much. She waited to hear the even breathing that meant
Clark was asleep, hoping Superman breathed the same way when he was asleep
and not knowing what to make of the whole thing.

She slipped out the front door, being careful not to make any noise.

Lois sat down. There was no real emotion on her face. Just stunned
shock.

She knew that Clark and Superman were friends. The whole world knew that.
Well, anyone with any sense anyway. But something just wasn't
right here.

Could Clark be Superman?

Superman was *Clark*?

Lois froze to the spot, her mind awhirl with images and memories. She saw herself gazing dreamily at Superman, while ignoring Clark; kissing Superman and being rude to Clark; telling Superman that she loved him and wanted to be with him, while rejecting Clark's impassioned, beautiful declaration of love; placing Superman on a pedestal for all the good he did, while dismissing Clark's good qualities as signs of an overgrown, unreconstructed boy scout.

Clark lying to her about everything that he was... a major part of his life that she'd been excluded from. Clark using his alter ego to sweet-talk her on occasion, knowing that she'd respond better to Superman than to Clark. Clark flirting with her in his other guise...

...because she'd never have given Clark the time of day, she recognised guiltily. Her own behaviour was by no means beyond reproach.

"You said you loved me because I was like Clark... because you saw Clark in me," he clarified, taking a step towards her.

She glared. "Oh, I'm sure that would make Clark feel a lot better about my being in love with another man."

"I'm sure it would," he said softly. "More than you know."

She was looking at him with fear now, her eyes wide. "Please, Superman, take me home. I-- I don't want to talk about this anymore. I don't want to hurt Clark."

He was advancing slowly, steadily now, and she shrank back from him. "You won't," he said softly, his hand coming up to touch her cheek. "I'm him." And his lips came swiftly down on hers.

Lois started sputtering, which made for a rather strange result, given that she and Superman were liplocked.

But there was something so familiar about his kiss. And she'd wanted this for such a long time. She leaned into the kiss, and when he tentatively deepened it, she gave in with a soft sigh. This felt so *right*. So wonderful. There was something about kissing this man that made the whole beach spin away around her, until only she and Superman were left in the world.

In fact, the kiss felt an awful lot like the one wonderful kiss...she'd shared with Clark.

She came back down to Earth with a thud.

"What?!" she asked, not understanding.

"I said," Clark said slowly, "you won't hurt Clark...because I'm him."

"You're who?"

"Him."

"Him who?"

"Clark!" he burst out. "I'm Clark!"

At some point, Lois had wandered into her bedroom and confronted her two BEST friends over their treachery. Since she didn't have them there in person to wrap her little hands around their throats, she'd resorted to storming at their
pictures. Apparently, verbalizing her frustrations hadn't held enough satisfaction and she'd decided to turn both of them into
the devils they were.

Or, had become in her mind.

Clark glanced down at the magic marker in his hand and back at the two images of Clark and Superman complete with horns, tails and pitchforks. The two matching identical twin images, because she'd apparently also decided since she couldn't take Clark's glasses off in his picture, Superman needed them, too.

AARRGGHH!

Suddenly all the broken dishes and overturned furniture made tons of sense. It was a wonder the roof was still on the building.

The biggest question in Clark's mind was whether she'd gotten drunk before or after her artistic endeavor.

The whole thing would almost be hilarious, except he didn't know where she was or what her mental state was. AND, the thought of a pained, angry, humiliated, furious, not to mention possibly totally plastered, Lois Lane loose on the world WITH the world's biggest secret under her belt made Clark's blood grow decidedly cold.

When the room was completely closed off, Clark Kent began to spin in place.

At least he had chosen to wear the suit under his clothes this time. ***** had been occasionally embarrassed by his ability to see what his father was doing at superspeed. For @@@@@'s sake, he was grateful. It was hard enough to see that Superman had a human life; she wasn't ready yet to see him in his underwear. That would have to wait until at least the third date.

She stared, unable to tear her eyes away from the familiar red and blue clad figure floating in the middle of the room. Superman stood in all his glory in front of @@@@@, and she was speechless.

When she finally moved, it was to punch ***** in the arm.

"What was that for?" ***** protested.

Clark Kent spun back into his daily clothing. "She probably thinks you should have told her earlier. Your mother wasn't all that happy when she found out either."

@@@@@ shook her head, and ***** could see that she was blushing. "I'm sorry, sir. I can understand the need for secrecy. After all, this is big...really, really big..."

***** stared at @@@@@ as he rubbed his arm. He'd never seen her babble before. If she weren't careful, she'd have his father thinking she was a younger Lois.

"But then I realized how much ***** was taking for granted...and it just made me so angry!"

"You don't make a habit of hitting people, do you?" Clark asked in his Superman voice. It had the same effect on @@@@@ that it always had with him, and ***** felt the need to defend her.

***** interjected. "I'm the only person she likes to hit. If we were seven, I'd think she liked me." He smirked.

Now she really did blush.

*****'s father chuckled and said, "Well, in *****'s defense, they say that no man is a prophet in his home town. ***** knew me as Dad a long time before he found out about my second job."

@@@@@ spoke again. "It's a lot to take in...the idea that Superman has a wife...a family." She shook her head. "I always thought that Superman was above that sort of thing."

"No one is immune to love, @@@@@," Clark said gently. He smiled. "Even Superman puts his boots on one foot at a time."

Clark just glared silently at Tempus. Tempus looked confused for a moment, but something about the quality of Clark's silence persuaded him to continue his analysis.

He had absorbed a lot of information about Superman before Wells discovered his secret agenda, and he had always been confused by a series of unexplained phenomena. Where had Superman lived? How had he always managed to disappear back into oblivion when he wasn't needed? Why had he made such a career out of helping these two reporters in particular? What was the connection? The final pieces fell easily into place.

"Oh but maybe he *did* bring Superman. Oh yes ... yes, it's perfect!" Tempus stepped up to face Clark, strangely unafraid. "A disguise? It's been suggested many times. How did you escape detection? Why that's remarkable. It's so simple. How did you manage to perpetrate this farce for so long?" He rolled his eyes heavenwards and laughed even louder.

"Oh my dear," Tempus turned to Lois. "How you must have suffered!" he declared with false sympathy. "Always running off to change into his little blue suit and save the world. All those
lonely nights. All those cold dinners!"

Tempus stopped when he saw her face, which was absolutely devoid of expression. She was as white as a sheet. "Don't tell me he didn't tell you?" he said, finding yet another piece of the puzzle. "Oh, this was worth the whole trip!"

Lois stared at her partner while her brain sorted through all the seemingly disjointed information. Superman came to Earth as a baby. Clark was adopted. Clark was always running out on her.

She stared until her eyes began to swim out of focus ... then, like looking at one of those 3-D pictures, suddenly it just clicked.

Clark's face resolved itself into the face of Superman.

Her eyes widened, blinking back moisture and her lips parted. A great blackness massed itself at the edge of her consciousness. With a great strength of will, she held it all at bay.

She found herself sitting in his lap, rocking back and forth as
he sought to convince her that she was really and truly safe.
Her arms reflexively went around his neck as she buried her
face in his shoulder. Never mind the blindfold; she didn't have
to see him to know him. Kal-El or Superman, it didn't matter;
she *knew* him. She knew this was --

She frowned. She knew how it felt to be held by Superman, and this
wasn't it. This was more like --

A flash of memory stirred in her heart, the way she'd felt when
someone had once cradled her as she huddled on her kitchen
floor, comforting her in just this manner. This was only a
faint echo of that intensity, a reflection that paled in
comparison with that reality, but...

Clark Kent let Lois Lane drag him into the conference room. She shut the
door behind them and turned toward him. Her face was flushed with
excitement.

"Quick, tell me your deepest, darkest secret. The one you'd never tell
another soul." She looked at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Come on, I need to tell you a big secret I'm keeping and I need
blackmail material to protect myself."

The corners of Clark's mouth turned up slightly and without missing a
beat he answered.

"Okay, I'm Superman."

"Wha, What?" She just stared at him.

"You know, the guy in blue tights, flies around the city doing good
deeds. That's me."

"Clark, I'm serious here."

"So am I."

Lois waved her hands about and let loose an exasperated sigh as she
launched into a classic Lane rant.

"Fine! Don't tell me!" She headed for the door. She stopped and turned
as she grabbed the knob. "You're still my partner, and I still need your
help with this, so meet me at my apartment in one hour." Lois took a
deep breath and gave Clark a mischievous smile.

"I think you might be surprised with what I have to show you."

Clark watched her as she stormed up the ramp toward the elevators. He
shook his head and smiled.

"So will you be, Lois. So will you."

She finished straightening the kitchen and walked around
the corner into the living room. There she saw Superman
standing in the light of the window, completely focused on
Jacob. He had him stretched out along his forearm, his
head cradled in his palm.

Lois froze as the room spun around her. She gasped and
Superman whipped his head around to look at her.

Misinterpreting the reason for her gasp, he tried to
reassure her.

"Don't worry, Lois. I've got him. He likes it, see," he
said nodding at Jake, who was indeed gurgling and waving
his arms.

Lois willed her heart to stop pounding. She opened her
mouth to speak, but before she could form any words
Superman tilted his head to the side and turned to Lois
apologetically.

"I have to go," he said, handing Jacob to her, and with one
last smile he was out the window.

Lois staggered to the sofa. "Oh my God. Oh my God. How?
I mean..."

Finally, it all made sense. The constant disappearing act,
accompanied by the incredibly lame excuses... He wasn't
afraid of commitment, he didn't have a secret wife, he
didn't have an illness that made him need to use the
restroom every half hour, and he wasn't just the most
forgetful man on the planet. He was Superman.

Confusion battled anger as she grappled with fact that
Clark had been lying to her for over a year.

"Oh, honey, we thought you were dead!"

For Charlie, the sound of the voice on the other end of the phone produced a wave of familiarity. "Do you...do you know me?" he asked, aware that his voice had begun to shake.

There was a short silence. "You don't remember?"

"Not much," he said, honestly. "Your voice sounds familiar, but --"

"Honey, I'm your mother." The woman's voice was full of concern, mixed with what was unmistakably relief. "You're my son, Clark."

"I -- I don't understand. You said your son had the flu -- or do you have another son?" Charlie asked, feeling more and more confused. "Can he do all these strange things, too?"

"No, honey. You're the only son we have. We adopted you when you were a baby. We had to have an explanation for why you didn't come to work for the past three days so we told everyone that you had the flu. Do you remember what
you were doing before you wound up in Metropolis?"

"I -- Lois found me," he found himself saying. "There was a fireball and she followed it. She found me in the hole it made."

"Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?"

"I don't seem to be," he said, "except that I can't remember much."

"Oh, heavens." Her voice paused for an instant and when it returned it had become almost businesslike. "Now, listen to me, Clark. This is important but you can't tell anyone. You went to stop Nightfall. Do you remember anything about it?"

Lois had been right, he thought. This woman who said she was his mother, and whose voice sounded so familiar, was confirming what he and Lois had figured out over the past three days. "How was I supposed to stop Nightfall?" he whispered. "We -- Lois and I -- thought that might be what I --"

"She knows?" his mother's voice said, suddenly concerned. "She's a reporter! Clark --"

"It's all right," he interrupted. He could almost visualize the face that went with the voice and at once understood her concern. "She hasn't told anyone; she *isn't* going to tell anyone. She's just trying to help me remember. If the rocket doesn't stop the asteroid...."

He lowered his hand as his own anger rose. He'd seen how she'd spent the night Clark died. He knew what Clark meant to her. How dare she pretend Clark meant more to her than that? How dare she blame this on him?

"Don't be melodramatic," he growled. "I know exactly how little Clark meant to you."

"How dare you," she spat. "Clark meant everything to me."

He snorted. "He meant so much that you were in bed with another man before my body was even cold! You didn't think I knew, did you? Yeah, I was there," he continued in response to the look of shock that appeared on her face. "I came by to make sure you were all right. And I saw you in bed with that man. So don't tell me how much Clark meant to you. How you died when he was killed. How his death is my fault. I know the truth, Lois. I know exactly what Clark meant to you," he hissed.

"What?" he asked, when she didn't respond. She looked confused, shocked even. Didn't she think that Superman could lose his temper, too? He stood there for a moment, trying to read the series of emotions that were flitting across her face.

When she finally did speak again, her voice was no more than a whisper. "Clark," she said, her voice half statement and half disbelieving question.

He interrupted before she could finish. "I just wanted to
let you know that... if you ever do want a 'wild ride', I'd
be happy to oblige... any time you want..." His voice
sounded almost sad; wistful, as if he was wishing for
something he knew could never happen.

Then, before she could ask what he meant, he'd bent and
scooped her up into his arms, murmuring, "Trust me, Lois."
Holding her against him with just one arm for a brief
moment, he pushed the window open.

And then stepped up onto the sill with her held against his
chest... and then stepped off, into thin air.

"Clark - CLARK!!" she yelled in terror, clutching at him.

And then she realised that they weren't falling. In fact,
they were climbing... moving upwards... they were *flying*!

His jaw clenched stubbornly for a moment. Wait a minute, this
wasn't all *his* fault. He scowled. How'd this get to be all
*his* fault?!

He raised his head to advance this point and then Lois' voice
rushed to fill the void that guilt and then annoyance had made
of his heart and, as he focused on what she was saying, it
stopped cold in his chest for the second time in so many
minutes.

"I had the right to *know*, Clark! Didn't you think I had the
right to know? What you are? *Who* you are? Didn't you think I
needed to know that, before we ... we ... " She waved a hand at
him, at a loss and then blundered on in full Lois Lane fury,
"Before we took things that far? I deserved to know!" That last
was almost a wail and then she paused, eyes narrowing on him.
"Or is that it?"

"What?" Clark said warily.

"Well, it seems to me, there's one good reason why you didn't
think it was important to tell me you were Superman before you
... you ... we ... " she stumbled on the words again and
trundled over them again like a tank advancing on enemy lines,
"If you didn't think it was any kind of ... commitment ... if
you thought it was just a ... a ... *thing* ... a one night
stand ... just a roll in the hay with your partner, huh? I mean,
we do everything else together, right? Watch a few movies. Share
some popcorn and soda. Might as well throw sex into the frame! I
mean, why the heck not?!"

In the midst of his horror at her conclusions, one part of
Clark's mind took wry note of the fact that she seemed to have
no trouble with the terminology when she was dismissing their
lovemaking as a casual encounter which had meant nothing to him
at all.

How could she *think* that?

"Lois, that's not true," he said and there was a faint frisson
of anger beneath his tone now.

How *could* she think that?

"I'd never think that way about you, Lo - S-Superman?" His
irritation dropped away into instant panic as that one word
leapt at him out of what she'd just said and smacked him hard in
the face.

"Clark? You okay, buddy?"

Henderson's concerned enquiry made him realise he must have drifted off for too long. "Sorry," he replied, looking up. "Got a lot on my mind."

"Well, how about sharing some of it with me?"

His heart was hammering even before he knew he'd made the decision. "You have to promise me that what I'm about to tell you goes no further than this office."

"As long as it's not material evidence, sure."

He shook his head. "I need more than that. No-one else knows, or I can't tell you."

"Then what?"

"Then I guess I'd have to stop co-operating with the investigation."

Henderson considered him for a long time before replying. "Okay, Clark, you got my word. This better be good."

"You're sure?"

"You want me to swear on my badge? It won't mean any more, because when I give my word, it's binding. Simple as that."

"Okay." Clark pulled his glasses off and looked steadily at Henderson. "The reason I need the investigation stopped is because I have an identity to protect. The kidnappers weren't after Clark Kent, reporter at the Daily Planet, they were after Superman."

Henderson frowned. "Superman? So you were the bait?"

Why was it that when he wanted to tell someone, they never caught on, and when he didn't want to tell someone, they figured it out right away? "No, I was the target."

"But you just said Superman was the target."

Clark nodded. "Exactly."

"So you're trying to tell me that you're...?"

"Yes."

Clark could only watch, helpless, as the doctor paced about the laboratory,
clearly agitated. He made several attempts to interrupt, but Bernard Klein
wasn't listening.

"Lois, Clark, I've been Superman's doctor for seven years now, and I
consider him to be my friend - and now I feel like I've betrayed him!"

Clark stepped forward and laid his hand heavily on the scientist's shoulder
from behind. "You haven't betrayed me, Bernie. And I do consider you a
friend - a very good and true friend." In his need to console his friend
and doctor, he momentarily forgot that he wasn't in the Suit and spoke in
Superman's voice; Klein stopped abruptly and swung around, confused,
clearly looking for someone.

"Clark... I thought I heard Superman!"

"You did," Clark explained quietly, thinking that this was the easiest way
to do it. "Bernie...." He increased the pressure on Klein's shoulder, then
added softly, "You've been a good friend to me for a long time, and you're
the only real friend Superman has. That's why I'm surprised you haven't
already guessed."

"Guessed what?" Klein was wild-eyed, confused and almost at a loss for
words as he stared at Clark.

"About Superman - about me," Clark answered. Slowly he removed his glasses,
brushing back his hair with his other hand and then standing straight and
tall in front of the doctor.

"Oh my lord... it's you!"

"Believe me, Lois, I'm not suicidal, but I am realistic." Clark led her back to the couch and the two of them sat again. "If I should - not - come back, I need you to do some things for me." Clark took a deep breath. "And in order for you to do these favors for me, I have to share a secret that I've been keeping from you... from everyone."

Lois' heart began to hammer. If it weren't for the seriousness of Superman's attitude she'd be thrilled at the prospect of him sharing his secrets with her. As it was, she couldn't completely stifle a spark of excitement.

Clark almost smiled when he saw that he had Lois' rapt attention. He took one last breath before he began his confession. "Superman has only been around for a few months now, but I have been on this planet since I was a baby. I was found and raised as the adopted son of two very wonderful people."

Lois gasped. "What you said to Amy Platt," Lois blurted out, remembering that first time she met Superman. "You said your mother made your suit for you!"

A sardonic smile forced its way onto Clark's face as he joined Lois in the memory. "That's right, I did, and she did." Clark took Lois' hands in his as he captured her eyes with his. "Superman is just a facade. He's a character I created in order to help people and still be able to have something that resembles a normal life. Superman is this larger than life super hero, but me, I'm really just a farmboy from Kansas."

Lois thought her heart was going to stop beating as her lungs forgot how to breath. "You, you mean... " Her mind refused to wrap itself around the obvious that he'd just revealed to her. "You're..."

Superman stood up and stepped a few feet away from the couch. He began his spin. The gaudy suit blurred into a swirl of primary colors, then quickly blended into a more sedate combination of black and tan. When he stopped he was dressed simply in a pair of tan slacks and a black pullover shirt. He slipped on a pair of glasses.

Lois' mouth hung open. "... Clark."

"Well, the thing is, that I have another part of my life that you
know nothing about. I'm not really all that sure how to tell you
this. But the first thing is that I lied to you. I don't have an
illness. I'm perfectly healthy. In fact, I CAN'T get an illness."

"Clark, you don't have to pretend, I won't tell anyone about it," Lois
interrupted.

"Lois, please!"

"Sorry. Carry On."

"I told you that I was ill, because I chickened out of telling you
the real truth. Heck, I'm just going to come out with it. Every time
I rush off, well it's because I'm ... Superman," Clark finished;
feeling better that it was in the open now.

"Ha! Clark, that is the most stupid joke to pull on anyone! You are
so thick sometimes," Lois retorted.

"But it's the truth!"

"Yeah, of course. And I'm King Kong"

"Okay, Lois. I'll prove it."

With that, Clark got up of the couch. Lois' smile faded slightly.
Clark spun out of his normal clothes and into his Superman suit. Lois
stared at him open mouthed.

"Oh my Lord! You were telling the truth! Oh I can't believe this. Oh
my! Oh my oh my oh my," Lois gasped. After a few minutes or so,
Lois recovered, and felt very angry.

Her foot brushed against something, and she noticed the bedspread
lying in a heap on the floor, where they'd no doubt thrown it some
time earlier. Grateful for the distraction, which meant that she
*didn't* have to turn and face Clark just yet, she bent and grabbed
for it, intending to throw it back on the bed.

But, as she lifted it, she caught sight of some brightly-colored
fabric underneath. Blue. Bright blue. And red. A very familiar shade
of red.

Spandex.

Red spandex.

With a stylized 'S' on it.

Stunned, Lois dropped the bedspread and bent to pick up Superman's suit.


*********************

"Do clothes make the man, Lois? I know that sounds a bit shallow but I want to know what you think. If I were to dress in more fashionable clothes, would you see me any differently than you do now?"

"Clark! What kind of question is that? I wouldn't think any different of you if you still wore that old suit from when you first started. I'll admit, it wasn't the most up-to-date suit that I've seen but I'd still feel the same way."

"If Superman wore that old suit of mine, what would you think of him?"

She stared at him in half-shock and realized that he was serious. "He'd still be Superman to me; but he'd never fit into it; it's way too small."

"What if I wore Superman's suit, would you see me any differently?"

"Clark, what is all this about? I'm beginning to worry about you."

"Lois, I was at your apartment all weekend. I was the one blinded by the device. You let me sleep on your couch and I flew with you in my arms when I couldn't see." He took his glasses off and smoothed back his hair briefly. "You made me feel as though you honestly cared for me. I just wondered why you don't feel that way about Clark."

"Clark, you didn't bash your head against something, did you?" She took a closer look to see if he had a bruise on his forehead.

"It's the truth, Lois. I don't want to be with any other woman except you. I'm tired of making silly excuses and covering up for my other identity. I wanted you to care about who I really am, Clark Kent, farm boy from Kansas, the friend who loves watching Mel Gibson videos with you, the man who adores the very ground you walk on. I'm beginning to think that you don't know me as well as I thought you did. Maybe my eyesight is not the only thing that was blinding me. Maybe it's time I faced the truth that you only care about me according to what I'm wearing."

Warm fingers touched hers and she felt cloth pushed into her hand. "Breathe through that," Superman's voice whispered. "It will help."

She opened her eyes and found that the cloth in her hand was a handkerchief. In fact, it was Clark's handkerchief. The CK in the corner, carefully embroidered by Martha Kent's hand, was unmistakable.

"Where--" she was beginning, when he put a finger across her lips.

"Keep your voice down," he whispered. "This place could go any minute."

She nodded. "Where did you get this? Where's Clark? Is he all right?" The intensity of her whisper made echoes bounce around the mine again. A little rain of gravel answered it.

Superman bit his lip and Lois felt her heart sink. "He's all right! Say he's all right, Superman!" Appalled, she felt the prickle of tears in her eyes and a sudden ache in her throat. Clark couldn't be hurt--or-- She couldn't even bring herself to think the word. "Please!"

He put a cautioning hand on her wrist to stem the flood of words. "Shh! He's all right, Lois. I promise."

The relief was almost overwhelming, and she felt the tears spill over. She wiped them away, fiercely trying to regain her self-control. "Where *is* he?"

"Here." The word was so low she wasn't sure she heard it correctly.

"What?"

"He's here, Lois. *I'm* Clark."

"I've missed you." He said planting quick little kisses on her neck.

"You've only been gone a half an hour." She said giggling. "Clark, stop, I've got butter all over my fingers."

Lois had been trying to find a way to put her arms around Clark without getting butter all over the back of the suit. Clark took her hands and began to suck on Lois' fingers one at a time.

"Mmmmm," Clark rumbled low in his throat. "I should have tried buttering you a long time ago."

"Clark, stop it!" Lois said in a fierce whisper which quickly turned into a soft moan of pleasure. She tried to regain her focus. "Clark, you'd better change, Lucy could come in here any min..."

"Hey Lois, where's that popcorn? Oooops."

As if on cue Lucy had stuck her head through the kitchen door and was treated to the sight of Superman sucking on the fingers of her sister. Lois and Clark seemed frozen in place like deer in headlights.

She ignored the warning, pushing away all cynical thoughts that dared to intrude into her happiness. She wouldn't let anything cloud this moment. Everything in her world felt right; in fact, it was as if she was floating on a fluffy mattress of warm air, held by nothing but her lover's arms and...

... and...

She blinked and frowned, her feelings suddenly too real to be ignored. Something wasn't quite right here. Being invaded by the bliss that came with the afterglow of lovemaking was one thing; realising that the floating sensation wasn't *just* a sensation was...

Oh... god...

She let one of her legs slide off Clark's solid thighs, afraid that the truth she dreaded might be confirmed. Her toes groped for the mattress and found it... a foot below her.

Now fully awake, she scrambled off the body floating - oh god, he was really *floating* - beneath her and jumped to her feet. She didn't turn around and ran to the bathroom, locked the door, and slid against the wall until she was
sitting on the floor of cold tiles, hugging her knees to her chest and releasing tears she couldn't hold back any more.

Clark turned back to Lois. "There was a train accident tonight. I heard about it on the neighbor's radio after you fell asleep. I didn't have a choice. I had to go." He turned off the television and returned to where he had been
sitting on the coffee table. "The reason I smell of fresh soap is that I got covered with grease while I was helping out at the train accident. I stopped by my folks' place to clean up before coming home. There is no other woman, Lois. There never has been."

Lois found that although her mind was racing, it was going in circles. He was Superman. She was married to Superman. But Superman had rejected her. It made no sense. Clark reaching out to touch her hand snapped her out of her thoughts. She jerked away. It registered in the back of her
mind that he looked hurt, but right now she didn't care.

"How dare you?" she finally hissed, her voice so low that it was almost indistinguishable to an ordinary human. "You.... We... What did... God, Clark... Or whoever the hell you are. I don't even know you anymore," she concluded in agony, staring at him as if he were a stranger.

He'd grabbed some supplies from the conference room shelves, and, less than a minute later, handed her the envelope.

Her curiosity had eaten at her, but, remembering the trust that her partner had put in her, she'd kept it hidden and sealed. She'd almost opened it when Clark had died, but couldn't bring herself to do it. When Superman had brought him back, she'd been glad that she'd held off. Now, over a year later, he'd finally told her that she could open it. The fact that he'd given permission in lieu of an excuse confirmed her suspicion that at least one of the two secrets in the envelope had something to do with his disappearing act.

Slowly, almost reverently, she opened the envelope. Inside were two scraps of paper. Each had three words on it. "I am Superman." "I love you."